


The Miraculous Life and Death of Armitage Hux

by clxude



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 1990's armitage, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Missing Children, Plants, Reincarnation, canon timelines don't matter, evil plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 19:33:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10445781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clxude/pseuds/clxude
Summary: It's your average urban legend - kid goes missing, family moves away, rumors run wild.Ben Organa-Solo won't be satisfied.





	

**Author's Note:**

> kind edited, my beta only had time for the first 3000 words  
> anyway, i hope you enjoy!  
>  **EDIT:** i originally wrote this for school and all of the characters had different names, so i messed up kind of while changing the names. i think i fixed everything, but you notice something that doesn't make sense, please point it out the comment section so i can go in and fix it!

#  _ _

_ “When Armitage Hux was born, his parents knew that raising a child wouldn’t be easy. They had little money, and with that came hurries and fear for the future. Children were expensive, made noise, and demanded attention that their parents couldn’t give. But, Armitage Hux was such a beautiful child - his parents couldn’t bear to part. They kept him, and so began their downward spiral through the rabbit hole. _

_  
_

_ His parents were rarely around once he was old enough to look after himself. Armitage didn’t mind. He made friends with the bees, listened to the leaves’ gentle lullabies. The forest was his home, the only one to truly matter. But when his parents came home from their double shifts at the factory and the greengrocer, he always came home told them tales of woodland creatures and the soft light of the oak canopy. His parents looked sad when he told them these stories, but the house would light up, sparkle like main street on Christmas eve. They were together - one family, home and whole. _

  


_ But when his father lost his job the spring Armitage turned fourteen, it was the beginning of the end. The man was never home, always off standing in long lines with hopes of securing a new job. Armitage’s mother was working more than ever, picking up every shift she could at the shop. _

  


_ Armitage knew none of this was his fault, but he still blamed himself. He grew too fast, ate too much, was sick too often. His birth had cost a pretty penny, and he had kept on racking up more and more costs as the years went by. _

  


_ He only had one option now -  _

  


_ Running away- running far, far away. _

  


_ He took his bike out of the shed at dawn, as soon as his father left the house. His mother was passed out on the couch, dead to the world after a long shift. _

  


_ The street was foggy, thick enough to blur the lights of oncoming cars. He only had a few more hours before his mother was awake again. As he pedaled to the edge of town, the fog grew denser, the wood more sinister. The trees lurked at his back, like an ever present shadow. He was just about to pass the sign welcoming you to town, and - BAM!”  _ Anakin slaps his hands together. Padme jumps, punches his arm.

  


“You scared me!” she shouts, but she’s still laughing, rosy-cheeked. She leans back against the couch, maybe just a little bit closer to Anakin this time.

  


“Your version of the story doesn't make any sense,” Kenobi says, still focusing on the movie. It’s an old Halloween flick - one part blood, three parts bad acting - even though it’s the dead middle of July. “Wouldn’t his body have been found, if he was hit by a car?”

  


“Have a little imagination, Kenobi. Besides, wouldn’t you hide the body if you hit someone with your car?”

  


“Don’t be crass,” Padme chides.

  


“Only for you, baby,” he croons. “My sweet summer girl.”

  


Kenobi groans and turns the tv volume up louder.

  


… 

  


They’re playing dodgeball in PE class for the third time in the past month. Ben kinda hates it - it’s boring and overly aggressive, bringing out the worse side of hormonal teenage boys. The way the other guys watch each other, like they’re all fresh meat hanging on hooks from the ceiling, leaves his skin tingling, like he somehow managed to lick a live wire. But most of all, he feels inadequate - all lanky appendages and awkward feet.

  


“Kenobi,” Anakin chooses. 

  


Ben can barely remember a time when Anakin  _ wasn’t  _ captain in gym class, but he thinks it was some time back in elementary school, before Anakin shot up and bulked up one summer. Kenobi showed up a few months after that, just in time for the next school year. And that was that - no one else ever became cool, unless Anakin and Kenobi decided they were worth their time.

  


When Anakin is left with Ben on his team, Ben trudges over, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Anakin’s eyes flash, and he grabs Ben's wrist, squeezing hard for half of a second.

  


“Why don’t you go play Armitage Hux in the forest, Solo?” Anakin asks. The rest of their team laughs.

  


Ben rolls his eyes. “Armitage was never confirmed dead, Skywalker. If you’re going to be so obvious in your threats, do try a bit harder, next time.”

  


Anakin’s smirk flickers for a moment, before - “What does it matter, Solo? The sooner you realize no one wants you around, the easier high school will be.”

  


…

  


Small towns are weird. 

  


They’re influenced by both international and national pop culture phenomena. Jakku isn’t any different - it knew the Spice Girls and half of the town left to see Beyonce once. But it has fostered a community all its own, with legends and kinks unique to the people who reside there. 

  


Take the death of Armitage Hux. It was nothing remarkable, just a missing child that never came home. While they’re not common, they’re certainly not rare. But Armitage Hux became something more than himself - a warning from parents to avoid the woods, a dare from high schoolers for the younger kids. An easy costume, although frowned upon by most. 

  


So here’s the truth - Brendol Hux lost his job, and he and his wife were already scrambling for money. The police say Armitage ran away because he loved his parents so much.

  


“It’s a common story, unfortunately,” the police chief, Han Organa-Solo, said on the morning news a few days into the investigation.

  


His parents looked all over town, used the last of their money to put his face on milk cartons and in the local paper. They never found him. His parents moved out to Arkansas a few months later; they knew that if they ever found him, he'd just be dust and bones. 

  


But there is more to every story, and the children of Jakku are more than happy to fill in all of the missing details. 

  


“He’s still alive, living in San Francisco or LA.”

  


“He got hit by a car and was buried in a ditch off of the interstate.”

  


“He lives in the forest, like wolves and bears.”

  


None of them are true, but that would never stop Jakku from running the rumor mill that keeps this town afloat.

  


…

  


Dinner in the Solo-Organa household is always a somber affair. 

  


Ben eats alone more often than not these days. He doesn’t mind most of the time - it means he gets to eat in the living room with the television on, playing MTV with his feet up on the leather sofa, as opposed to the stuffy dining room. That room, the one he only ever goes in when his father is awake enough to eat dinner with his only child, is suffocating in its grandeur. 

  


There is a stain on the table runner from Ben's Christmas dinner five years ago. Leia placed a vase of fake flowers, lilies and baby’s breath, on top of it. There is a new vase where that one stood. Leia ordered it from Amazon Prime four years ago, after Ben broke the first. 

  


Leia and Han are never home, and their time in the house drops with each year Ben ages. Ben is apathetic towards it, as he is with most things concerning the Organa-Solos these days. 

  


But tonight - he’s not alone. 

  


Leia is sitting across the table from him, still dressed in a dark gray pantsuit with a purple, lightly floral patterned button up underneath. Even after hours spent in the town hall, her french updo is still perfectly coiled without a flyaway in sight. Silver is beginning to show at the roots - Ben doubts it will be less than a week before they are dyed back into submission.

  


Han is to Ben's left, although unlike his wife, the police chief has changed into stonewash jeans and a gray army shirt. He grips his knife too tightly, like it is only a matter of time before he’ll need to use silverware to defend his life.

  


Ben knows he won’t need to. The police kept protesters away from their house for the first few months, but like with all causes, the pickets soon lost interest and stopped coming. Now, people only come by on the anniversary of Armitage Hux’ disappearance, and even then it’s only a handful of people.

  


Dinner is steak and roasted asparagus. Through the partially open kitchen door, Ben can see the pizza he  _ had _ been planning on eating, before his parents decided to come for dinner, growing cold on the granite counter. He picks at the asparagus, sticking it with his fork. He had told his mom he didn't like the taste of it, but she had only sighed, leaned down to his level and rested her palms on Ben's shoulders.

  


"You still need to eat it," she said in her politician’s voice - the same one she uses at dinner parties when one of the guests is particularly dense. "There are children in this very town who go hungry every day. You're extremely fortunate to have such delicious and healthy food."

  


"Okay," Ben nodded. "But, can I have corn next time instead? I like that more."

  


She smiled, but it was clear her attention had already shifted away from her son. "Of course, dear. Now hurry up and go to sleep. It's getting late and I still have a few phone calls to make."

  


That was six years ago. He's fourteen and still hates asparagus. He knows his mother doesn't remember the exchange, with how she's looking at his plate, eyes wide with confusion, like she could have sworn his favorite vegetable was asparagus.

  


"How was work today, Mrs. Councilwoman?" Han asks jokingly. His eyes are crinkled at the edges. His knife is resting on the edge of his plate now, but his hand is only a few centimeters away, resting his palm down on the white tablecloth. 

  


"Unproductive." Her voice is light and airy, but even that is not enough to hide how upset she is. "Jensen filibustered for almost half of the morning session, only to be followed by another council member until lunch."

  


"Are you still trying to have more funding be given to the police department?" Han inquires.

  


"Yes. There are so many cases that go unsolved. I feel like if you were only to have more money..." she trails off, looking somewhere just beyond the Amazon vase, before shaking her head. "Not that any of the other council members see it that way. As soon as Jensen cried nepotism, it was clear who had  more support."

  


Ben is more than a little surprised by this. He would have thought that all of the late nights and missed family time would have lead to something. But no - she was still exactly where she was three months ago, the last time they had sat down as a family to have dinner.

  


"You don't mean - ?"

  


"I do. He should have been brought home, Han. I can't even begin to imagine what his parents went through, his  _ mother. _ And to know that someday, they'll find a body out in those woods." She snuffles, takes a deep breath and clears her throat. "Well, that certainly put a damper on the mood."

  


"But he was never confirmed dead, right, Dad?" 

  


Both Han and Leia jump when Ben asks the question, like they forgot he was even in the room. 

  


"Right?" he prompts.

  


"Correct."

  


"So, theoretically, he might not be dead."

  


"Ben, have you been listening to the kids at school again?" Han asks, clearly upset. "It's unfortunate that the Hux boy - "

  


"Armitage," Ben interjects.

  


" -  _ Armitage _ \- was never found, but there is no way he could still be alive ten years later without ever being seen. Besides, why are you bringing it up now? You’ve never even met his parents, let alone Armitage himself."

  


"I'm going to find him."

  


He's out of his chair before either of his parents can say anything, running into the kitchen. He leaves behind a plate of asparagus in favor of shoving cold pizza into his mouth, two more slices in each hand.

  


"Ben!" his mother calls.

  


"I'm going to Rey's!"

  


…

  


Rey opens the door as soon as Ben finishes knocking.

  


“Finn - “ she’s smiling, but it drops off of her face as soon as she sees who it is. “Oh. Why are you here?”

  


“Do you wanna do something fun?”

  


“Knowing you, I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

  


“Probably.”

  


She’ll definitely regret this, and Ben might as well, but if this is what he has to do in order to get his parents’ attention and validation, so be it.

  


“Awesome,” she sighs. “But we’re waiting for Finn and Poe, first.”

  


…

  


Ben's relationship with Finn and Poe has always been forced at best. It came from Ben's sole friend being his cousin, and his cousin having terrible taste in friends. It should be noted Ben does include himself in “terrible taste in friends.”

  


“This is a terrible idea,” Finn says for the nth time, before tripping over a root. Ben wants to suggest leaving him behind, because this is the fifth time Finn has tripped over a root, but Poe is already helping the other boy up and making sure he’s okay. Finn is blushing as Poe helps him up. The secondhand embarrassment is so bad, Ben is forced to turn around and keep walking.

  


“Why do you even want to find him?”

  


Ben doesn’t bother to answer; he knows Rey will for him.

  


“Because he’s terrible like that and wants to prove to everyone he’s right in the most dramatic way possible.”

  


The woods are dark and cold, even more so than they should be with the tree canopy. Everything is shades of light and dark green, with random patches of pale light. Lichen covers the trees, mushrooms cover the ground. Massive oak trees tower around them.

  


Ben hates it. 

  


When he was little, his parents used to take him and Rey to the woods and let them run wild. He still has a scar from the first time they took him out and he cracked his head against a rock. They stopped after Armitage Hux ran away and his bike was found in the woods. City Council, along with Leia, were under a constant barrage from protesters; Han and the police department were doing their best to find the missing kid. Things never really slowed down after that, and Ben avoided the forests.

  


But now that he’s out here again, looking for a missing boy, with Rey and her stupid friends. He takes a deep breath, and walks further into the woods. 

  


…

  


As they walk through the woods, things are quiet. Finn falls a few more times, but Poe catches him for the most part. It’s quiet and still, the calm before the storm. It makes the hairs along Ben's arms rise and feels like fingernails tracing his spine. 

  


When Finn finally declares that they’re all going to die, it almost feels like a blessing. Ben doesn’t bother arguing and leads the other three out of the woods. 

  


He does his best to ignore the way the ivy and kudzu seem to reach after them, growing and creeping along the ground.

  


It’s just his eyes playing tricks on him, as the light flicks and the wind blows.

  


There is no reason to be scared, but Ben still finds himself holding his breath as he steps out of the forest. He breathes easier, once he’s back in the sunlight. He breathes easier, once he no longer feels like he’s being crushed by the woods.

  


…

  


The ceiling fan is circling overhead. The lights are off, the blinds are drawn shut, the moon is low in the sky, the stars are tucked behind clouds. But from somewhere - Ben doesn’t know - enough light is coming for him to watch it. It’s mesmerizing, suffocating in its unceasing swirl. Ben breathes slowly, and his sheets and blankets rise and fall with his chest. 

  


He can hear his parents a floor above, walking around their bedroom. He can hear them talking, but their voices are too quiet to be made out clearly. It’s just a hum of insistent noise, the tapping of shoed feet on hardwood floors. 

  


Eventually, sometime after three, the house grows silent. All Ben can hear is his fan blades slicing through the air. He slides out of bed, fully clothed, all the way down to his socks. He laces up a pair of dirty hightops, grabs his backpack and a large flashlight from his desk, clips his house keys to his belt. 

  


He moves through the sleeping house with ease. Living here his entire life has taught him which floorboards and stairs creak. The door is the only problem, but with slow hands, he manages to keep most of the squeaking at bay.

  


Riding his bike down the suburban streets at three thirty is a subliminal experience. The air is cold, damp. Fall is coming early this year. He rides faster, dancing on his pedals for the inclines and coasting whenever he goes down a hill. He knows this neighborhood well, even if things do look stranger, larger, in the dark. 

  


…

  


He tosses pebbles at Rey’ window until she switches on her desk lap and slides the glass up. He can only see the outline of her head and upper body, but her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, with half of the hair flying every which way. 

  


When she sees who it is, she disappears for a second, only to return with a dictionary. She chucks it at him, but her aim is off in the dark and the shot goes way over his head. 

  


“Rude.” He sticks his tongue out.

  


“And I was sleeping, Ben,” she replies. “Go home.”

  


“But I - “

  


“I swear, if you say anything to me about Armitage Hux before ten thirty, the next dictionary won’t miss.”

  


Ben pouts. “You’re so mean to me. When did this happen? Why can’t you go back to being a cute elementary student who just wanted to make me smile? I liked that Rey better.”

  


“You’re in high school, Ben. Get over yourself.”

  


“But - “

  


“Shh, no buts. Go home, there’s school tomorrow.” She slides the window shut before he can respond. The bicycle ride home afterward is far less fun, when the time is creeping closer to four and Ben can barely keep his eyes open.

  


…

  


The following week passes in a blur of school-homework-test-school-random venture into the woods. Alone, the trees are unsettling at best, downright terrifying at worst. He feels like someone, or something, is watching him. He does his best to ignore it, but the feeling always keeps him from staying long, and subsequently, he finds nothing besides a few empty soda cans and a Pop Tart wrapper of indistinguishable age.

  


But there is an itch under his skin, a churning in his gut, and he knows he won't be able to end this search until he discovers the truth. 

  


…

  


It takes nearly a month - long enough for the leaves to shift from green to yellow and red - but eventually, Rey agrees to go with Ben to meet Armitage Hux’ parents, as long as Poe and Finn can come, too. 

  


“Why do they have to come everywhere?” Ben had complained on the phone. He was standing in the hallway awkwardly - the cord kept him from wandering far. He thought the wall phone was annoying and old-fashioned; his mom thought it was “cool” and “practical.”

  


“Because otherwise, we would both die.”

  


Ben hates to admit it, but it’s true. Poe and Finn are his unwilling impulse control.

  


…

  


It takes another week to find a ride to Arkansis, which ends up coming in the form of Poe’s older brother Temmin. Ben and him have never really gotten on - he likes country music and has terrible road rage over the pettiest things - but when he suggests hiding in the cargo hold of a Greyhound, Rey pointed out things like being found and arrested, which sent Finn into a downward spiral of how his life would be ruined forever, if Ben were to force him into the undercarriage of a bus. 

  


So here they are now, the windows down as they speed down an empty highway in a car more fit for the early seventies than present day. Temmin has a mixtape playing on the cassette deck, a combination of both old and newer country, although none of it was released in the past two decades. Temmin’s a purest like that, driven by a mantra of spite the man, vintage is better, iPods are for preps. 

  


But Ben knows the truth; he’s seen the early noughties photos. No amount of Kenny Rogers can change or erase Temmin’s scene phase. 

  


Temmin doesn’t talk until halfway through the car ride.

  


Turning down the music, he smirks when he asks, “Wanna know what Poe said he would for me?”

  


In the rearview mirror, Ben can see Poe blushing. Finn’s sleeping against his shoulder, but Rey, even with tired eyes, appears piqued. 

  


“You’re holding me up to that?” Poe laughs, brushes dark hair off of his forehead. It’s the same charming attitude as always, but fear is clear in his eyes, alongside peach high in his cheeks.

  


“Why wouldn’t I?” He never takes his eyes off of the road as he reaches across Ben to rifle through the glove compartment. It makes Ben more than a bit uncomfortable, to have the college age brother of his cousin's friend falling into his lap. The car only jerks once, when he cheers after finding it.

  


He hands the paper to Ben.

  


_ “Day of the Triffids?”  _ he asks.

  


“Yep,” he taps her left pointer finger on the steering wheel once. “The dollar theater downtown is showing in a few months. Poe here has agreed to go with me  _ and  _ purchase my tickets and snacks.”

  


“What’s it about?” Rey asks.

  


“Evil asparagus,” Poe replies, inciting a shiver from Ben.

  


“It doesn’t sound - “

  


“It is,” Poe interrupts. “He made me pay for him to see it last time it was shown.”

  


“And the time before that,” Temmin adds.

  


“And the time before that,” Poe agrees.

  


They keep driving down the empty road, surrounded by nothing but trees - a sea of green waiting to drown them.

  


…

  


Arkansis is a lot like Jakku, just a bit smaller, a bit more reclusive and rainy. It’s a town that stopped growing, once all of the millennials moved out and the other citizens stopped having children. It’s run down and slow, all boarded up shops on the main street and cracked crossroads. 

  


“When do you think you’ll be done?” Temmin asks, hanging out of the truck window. His raven hair is falling in her eyes. 

  


Poe shrugs. “Thirty minutes?” he estimates. 

  


“Mhm.” Temmin shifts back into his seat. “I’m gonna go find some coffee. Call me when I need to pick you up.”

  


He peels off in a haze of burnt rubber and gasoline, leaving Ben, Rey, Finn, and Poe left standing on a sidewalk - all cracked concrete and weeds growing wild. Before them, set fifteen feet off the road, is a blue house. It’s small, only one story with a narrow porch, painted a pale blue and peeling in a few places. The grass is long, and the bushes overgrown. 

  


“How did you even find them?” Rey asks, incredulous. 

  


“Phonebook,” comes Ben's reply.

  


“Huh,” Rey sighs, vaguely impressed.

  


They continue to stand on the sideway for a few more minutes until she takes charge and leads them up the driveway and to the porch. The wooden floorboards creak underfoot, their tennis shoes kick up dust. A wilted plant is sitting in the corner, tucked behind an old, dirty rocking chair. Ben brushes a fingertip against one of the browning leaves - his hand comes away filthy.

  


Rey looks at him. “Do you want to - ?” 

  


He blinks, before what Rey is asking sinks in. “Sure.”

  


He rings the doorbell. That, too, is dusty. Ben wipes his finger clean on his jeans. Soon, he can hear people moving inside the house, and a lamp switches on, illuminating the front windows. A second later, the door swings open to reveal a tanned face, crowned by course, graying hair.

  


“Are you Maratelle Hux?” Ben asks. 

  


She nods once.

  


“We wanted to talk to you about your - “

  


She doesn’t let him finish before she takes one look at the four of them, before promptly closing the door in their faces. Less than a second later, the lamp switches back off.

  


“That’s rude,” Poe complains. He elbows Ben out of the way to ring the doorbell again, pushing down on the button for a few seconds.

  


“You shouldn’t do that, Poe,” Finn hisses, tugging on the fabric of Poe’s hoodie. “You’ll upset her.”

  


When the door opens this time, a man’s face is revealed. He has a scruffy beard, more white than ginger at this point. He’s wearing a red flannel, with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. 

  


This time, Poe asks if he’s Brendol Hux.

  


“What do you want?” he asks, voice gruff. 

  


“We wanted to ask you about - “ Poe begins, but the man stops him.

  


“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “Not now. This family has been through too much. We had to move all the way out here just to keep the papers away. Just - go. You’ll bring nothing but pain to this house.”

  


He moves to shut the door, but Ben jams his foot in before he can.

  


“I’m going to find him,” he swears. These words have weight, and they press on his chest more than he expected. This is it, the final step, the one he can’t turn away from. “I won’t stop until I do.” 

  


The man scoffs. “You’re just as crazy as the rest of the people in that town.”

  


“Why are you so afraid to find Armitage?” Rey asks.

  


The man sighs, glances over his shoulder. For a split second, Ben can see the woman over his shoulder. She’s clutching a tissue to her mouth. Her eyes are red and puffy.

  


“Because, then we’ll know for certain.”

  


He shuts the door, and when they hear the deadbolt slid shut, they know that this is it - the door won’t open for them again. 

  


…

  


The ride home is somber. Somehow, without anyone telling him what happened, Temmin is able to sense what happened. The radio is on, but the music is distant and hard to hear. 

  


Ben watches the trees whip by, as they blur into a single stream of greens and browns. The world seems so small - just trees and sky, giant leaves and dark clouds. They block out the sun and cast the world in gray, but somehow, it doesn’t dampen the leaves. They are still bright - the only source of color in the entire world.

  


…

  


When Temmin stops in front of Ben's house, Rey grips his shoulder before he can climb out of the truck.

  


“Don’t do anything stupid.”

  


“When have I ever?” Ben smirks.

  


Maybe there is a reason, for Rey’ concern.

  


…

  


The forest is growing colder, as autumn approaches. The flora seems to retract in on itself, shedding leaves, shredding green. Everything is beginning its long trek away from the sun, towards cold, moonlit death. 

  


Ben follows the last of the green, deep into the woods. The trees seem to fold in around him, and the ivy beckons him further. One step after another, and even metronome, like the sleeping earth’s heartbeat. 

  


The ground seems to move beneath him, shift and shake. He walks faster. His converses feel like they’re weighing him down, filling up with invisible sand and imaginary rocks. He stops once - only once - to check, but finds nothing. But still, something holds him back, something stops him. 

  


When he stands, he finds that his feet can’t move at first. Thin, green vines are coiled around his ankles. They’re weak and flimsy, and Ben rips away from them with ease. They leave behind tiny puncture marks in the fabric of his shoes. Nothing major - just wispy trails of canvas. Nothing to worry about, but still shocking nonetheless, how quickly they were able to ensnare him.

  


He walks faster, after that, although he’s beginning to feel light headed. He should have brought water, or maybe some sort of hydrating snack, like a piece of fruit or a cup of applesauce. He keeps walking, and soon, he can make out the edge of a clearing. Light shines through the trees, and the fungi and moss are more abundant and thick. The dead leaves that once crunched underfoot now give way to grass and the occasional clump of wildflowers. 

  


He pauses at the edge of the clearing, suddenly overcome by a swarm of dizziness and clouded vision. He clutches the nearest tree trunk - juniper, he notes faintly - and breathes deeply. When the dizziness clears and he’s able to step away from the support, of the juniper, he finds that he is no longer lightheaded, just sleepy.

  


So, so incredibly tired. 

  


In the center of the clearing, there is a patch of earth completely clear of any growth. It’s not a perfect circle - grass ruffles the edges and weeds grow wild - but the ground looks soft. It beckons him, like a warm bed after a long, cold day. With each step, he grows more and more detached, more and more out of it. The grass sinks underneath his weight, like a soft, goose down comforter. 

  


He’s so exhausted, that by the time he reaches the imperfect circle, he nearly collapses. He lays down quickly, curls his legs up close to his chest. Here, in the sunlight, he feels warm, even as a cold breeze nips at his nose and toes. 

  


At first, he tries to keep his eyes open, to stay awake. But as the puffy white clouds pass over the sky and block out the sunlight, he finds it impossible to hold back.

  


He dreams of darkness - the artificial kind where there are no stars and there is no oxygen, the kind that slips between your cells and tries to strangle you. Tries to snuff out your soul.

  


He feels a crushing weight on top of him, but he can’t tell where that ends and he begins. The darkness surrounds him, consumes him, deletes all sense of self.

  


There is no Ben Organa-Solo, there is no darkness, there is no weight - 

  


There is only now, and the destruction of substance, the murder of reality.

  


…

  


_ “Ben? Ben!” _

  


He’s drift, ascending to what may be the surface, or to what may be further into the depths.

  


_ “Ben!”  _

  


Something touches his face - something warm and human.

  


_ “Please don’t be dead. Wake up, wake up, wake up!” _

  


A slap, barely noticeable, but still strong enough to jerk Ben from his slumber. 

  


He opens his eyes only to close them straight away - the sunlight is blinding. But in that moment, he’s still able to see Finn and Poe’s worried faces, the corners of their lips turned down in concern.

  


“I’ll go find everyone else,” Poe tells Finn after helping Ben sit up. “Can you wait with him?”

  


Finn nods, biting his lip.

  


Ben looks around. The circle is gone, vines grow over him. They’re thick, ranging from the size of his thumb to that of his wrist. They encircled him, pinning his legs. The leaves are not green; instead, they take on a sickly yellow. 

  


“We only found you because you were screaming,” Finn reveals as he cuts away vines with a pocket knife. Ben just tears them away roughly. “It sounded like someone was being murdered. God, Poe and I have walked through here so many times the past couple of days while trying to find you.”

  


“Days - ?”

  


“Ben Organa-Solo!” his mother yells, running into the clearing, Rey and Poe following after her. Surprisingly enough, her hair isn’t pinned back - instead, loosely braided - and she’s not wearing a pantsuit in favor of stonewashed jeans. 

  


She drops to her knees beside him and pulls him in a massive hug. 

  


“Never do that again,” she whispers, voice obviously strained. “You hear me? Never again.”

  


“I hear you,” he replies faintly, but he’s not focusing on her. No, he’s watching Finn bite his lip, eyes dancing between Ben and the woods around them. “I hear you.”

  


“Just wait until your father sees you. He’s been worried sick these last three days.”

  


It’s strange, to hear her slip back into the local dialect. It’s been years since he last heard it. It had been in a fit of rage that ended in tears and shattered china. A child was missing, and Leia had met the mother. They were all powerless, even the most powerful woman in the city. It’s wrong, to see her without her faux Washington tone. 

  


…

  


Leia drives him to the hospital, where it is determined that he’s severely dehydrated. Ben can overhear the doctors and nurses discussing whether or not he should stay the night on an IV, but eventually, they discharge him.

  


The car ride home is icy and tense, but it’s nothing compared to when they arrive home. He’s not sure the last time his father hugged him, but it makes him stiffen up, the sudden touch. He smells like cheap beer and gun smoke.

  


“Never do that again,” his father warns. “What were you even doing out that far, Ben?”

  


“I need to - “

  


“We could have lost you, Ben.”

  


Ben Organa-Solo has never seen his father cry. It’s not something he likes.

  


“You’re grounded,” Leia says. She’s slipped back into that Washington accent, leaving no room for debate. That doesn’t stop Ben, of course.

  


“I’m going to find Armitage Hux,” he declares, “and you can’t stop me.”

  


… 

  


He can hear his parents talking through his locked bedroom door. Leia and Han are loud, and the screams echo throughout the house. 

  


Ben is on his bed, legs hanging off the edge and a pillow covering his face. It’s warm and slightly moist from his breath, just on this side of scratchy. He considers screaming into it until his mouth is already open before shutting it, biting his tongue and squeezing his jaw tightly.

  


It’s getting late - twilight is setting in. 

  


He stands up quickly and waits for the sudden dizziness to subside. He snatches a hoodie from his bedpost and tugs it on. He swings his window open and looks down. It’s ten feet to the ground. It’s a bad idea, but there is little he can do to make things worse at this point.

  


He ends up dangling from the window still, dropping the distance to four and one half feet. Still further than he would like, but he takes a deep breath and falls. He lands solidly. Pain shoots up his legs, tapering off at his hips. He takes a shaky breath before climbing onto his bike and pushing off and riding into the darkness. 

  


… 

  


The forest is much the same as it was a few days ago, but the air is heavier now, staler. Every single one of Ben's muscles is tense, as if laying in wait for some sort of flora monster to swoop in and devour him. The crunch of bones under the weight of roots, blood vessels popping as plants consume him - the images fill his mind. 

  


A leave brushes his ankle, and Ben is forced to bite back a scream. The forest is all around him, out here. The night is approaching quickly, bringing in a wave of inky, cold air. He’s all alone; why did he think this would be a good idea?

  


“Stupid,” he mumbles, continuing his trek. It’s unceasing, the constant search for a missing child. As he stands under ash and sycamore, it all seems pointless. How is he, a mere fourteen year old boy, supposed to find the teenager that ten years worth of police investigations could never recover?

  


Is he even ready to see a dead body?

  


He knows the flesh will be gone, leaving behind nothing more than bleached bones. But to see something so human stripped up humanity, left as nothing more than ivory - why, just the thought makes his stomach roll and lurch,

  


This is a mistake - 

  


He needs to go back - 

  


He has to turn around - 

  


No, he can’t. That’s not an option. He has to finish this, one way or another. Going back is just accepting defeat and letting it amass his existence and destroy his soul. No, he swore, he promised. It’s too late to go back now. Even if the Hux’ do not want their son back, there has to be some part of them, however microscopic, that longs for some form of closure for their boy. 

  


Ben  _ will  _ be the one to provide that ending, no matter the cost, no matter how sad, no matter how heart wrenching. 

  


It’s better than nothing, and isn’t that the best part of all?

  


…

  


There is a pond, calm and still in the darkness. A fine veil of mist hangs over the water like a funeral shroud. Ben stands impossibly close, right on the edge, but far enough that the tips of his shoes stay dry. Beneath his shoes, the ground is muddy, caking up the tread of his sneakers. He digs his feet in a little further, listening to the clay squish. 

  


He’s not quite certain what he’s doing here. It’s not like he can look for Armitage Hux in an old mill pond on his own, and definitely not when it’s this late and dark. But he still stands here - breathing in the scent of water. In and out, inhale and exhale. 

  


Can you feel it, this distant feeling of pointlessness?

  


There is nothing out here. Deep inside of him, shoved to the dimmest, dustiest corner of his mind, is an ugly thought. What is the point of this, a quest for the child no one wants to be found? He’s the only one in this god forsaken town still searching, and all for what? He finds a body, end of the story, end of the mystery, of the local legend. It’s pulling back the curtain and showing the world that the wizard is just a man; it’s saying five words and ripping away the hero worship. 

  


He drags his right toes through the water. Coldness seeps inside, leaving his toes icy. He could search the pond and overturn every rock lining the sandy bottom, and still achieve the same result. 

  


Finding Armitage Hux is nothing more than an attempt to be a name worth knowing, but why be famous when you don’t even know yourself? 

  


He turns away from the water, savors the emptiness kissing the back of his knees and neck. He walks away from the shore and lets the trees eat him once again.

  


He brushes his hand again an unassuming tree, and when the skin comes away from the bark a rusty brown, he looks down to see pale, sunless flesh. A pair of 90s-esque sneakers stick out of the leaves a few feet away.

  


Maybe there is something in the search. 

  


Maybe there is worth, in being known.

  


…

  


Getting the boy out of the woods is the hardest part. Although he’s breathing and his heart is beating, he’s still 120 pounds of dead weight. With one unconscious arm around his neck and one of Ben's arms around the boy’s waist, it’s slow going, but the trees are beginning to thin and the starry sky is easier to see. Sweat glides down his back like ice by the time they reach the highway. 

  


Once there, standing at the edge of the asphalt, Ben slides his phone out of his pocket. It’s the first time he’s so much as glanced at it since he left his house a few hours previous, and countless notifications from his parents and Rey cover the screen. He ignores them all in favor of texting his dad the closest landmark and a simple request to pick him up.

  


The police chief shows up only twenty minutes later, slowing down once the headlights shine on Ben and the boy beside him. Once the car comes to a stop, Han rolls his windows down. 

  


“What were you - “ he begins, but stops himself, eyes widening. “Is that - ?”

  


“I found him in the woods, by a pond.”

  


“Get in the car.”

  


…

  


The car ride to the hospital is silent and tense. Ben is in the back, with Armitage stretched out beside him, his head resting in Ben's lap. He cards his fingers through the ginger’s hair without noticing, just a slow, easy motion to keep his mind off of the world around him. He and his father never talk - the metal grid between them makes conversation difficult - but he catches Han glancing back in the rearview mirror a few times. 

  


His father is driving above the speed limit, whipping down country roads. The forest seems to surround the car, coming over it like an approaching storm. But in the speeding patrol car, they’re safe. Or, at least, that’s what Ben going to tell himself.

  


It’s the only thing he can do.

  


“When we get to the hospital - “ their eyes connect in the rearview window, “ - you don’t talk to anyone without me or your mom beside you, alright?”

  


…

  


It seems that only seconds pass between Armitage being rushed away on a gurney and dozens of reports swarming the hospital waiting room. They come in droves, weighted down with camera and microphones, as well as a few decked out with light reflectors. The sheriff faces them head on, arms crossed over his chest. Even out of his uniform, Han Organa-Solo still casts an imposing figure. 

  


“Where was Armitage Hux found?” one reporter, a woman with auburn hair and a red pantsuit, asks. 

  


Before Han can even begin to form an answer, another report, this one a man, shoves her out of the way. “Has the body been verified as Armitage Hux yet? When will I be able to take a statement?”

  


“Have the parents been contacted him?”

  


“How was he able to survive this long?”

  


“There have been rumors that Armitage Hux looks the exact same. Is there any truth to this statement?”

  


“Were there any obvious signs of foul play?”

  


“Was there - ?”

  


“No questions will be answered until the Hux’ arrive and are ready to talk to you,” Han says, glaring at the cameras. “Their son has been missing for ten years, and I doubt that they’ll be willing to answer questions first thing. The police department will release a statement in the morning on whether or not the Hux’ are ready. Until then, you all can go home.”

  


Although angry murmuring can be heard from the crowd, the reporters are mostly quick to comply. Ben watches this all from a seat in the corner of the waiting room. A nurse gives him a cup of hot cocoa once the room is empty, and he holds the cup close, huddled until a jacket from the trunk of his father’s patrol car. It’s old, the fabric thinning at the elbows. Even though it smells like smoke and tobacco with the slightest hint of mildew, it’s still warm and comforting. 

  


The secretary at the check in desk keeps looking at Ben, concern clear on his face. It just makes Ben retreat further into the jacket, sipping at the chocolate even as it burns his tongue. The damaged taste buds leave everything feeling a little fuzzy. 

  


Han has disappeared - off to talk to the doctors before Armitage’s parents arrive, no doubt. Ben just kinda wants to go home at this point. He can find his bike in the morning - face the  _ world  _ in the morning. Anything else will require more energy than he can muster. 

  


He ends up falling asleep after that, just drifts off in the hospital waiting room. It could have been worse, all things considered. 

  


…

  


He wakes up in his bed, still completely dressed with only his shoes and his father’s jacket removed, which now lays draped across his desk chair. He stretches for a few moments, before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stares out the bathroom window while doing so, sandwiched between the window panes and the blinds. The glass is chilly to the touch. The sky is gray and clouds move swiftly, growing ever darker. He grabs the jacket before heading downstairs. 

  


His mother is in the kitchen, standing next to the stove as a tea kettle heats up. It’s a strange sight - his parents are almost always gone off to work by the time he’s up.

  


“Your father and I have decided that you can stay home today,” she says, not looking up from her phone. She’s always working - she hasn’t once stopped since she took office. She doesn’t even sound the same anymore. It only took a few months for her to comfortably slip into her councilwoman voice around the clock. “We figured, after the stress of last night, it would be for the best.”

  


He blinks.

  


“It’s Monday,” she clarifies.

  


“Oh.”

  


“You’re going to have to go down to the station this afternoon,” she says, finally looking up. He eyes soften, just a bit, from the harsh, calculating look they always seem to take on. “Han will pick you up a bit after two.”

  


He nods. The kettle begins to whistle. 

  


“You can talk to us about anything, you know that, right?”

  


Somewhere along the line, it became hard to trust her, difficult to believe her sincerity. Politicians lie all the time. Any part of their life, whether public or private, can be used against them. Somewhere, somehow, that line begins to blur and smear. 

  


“We love you, Ben. Never forget that.”

  


Isn’t it so sad, how easily reality and fantasy blend under the careful fingers of politicians? 

  


…

  


“This is where you found him?” a deputy asks. Ben nods, pointing to the tree. They’re not far from the millpond. It’s closer in the afternoon light, when he’s no longer alone. The deputy takes a few pictures with her canon, before looking at the sheriff. “There is no sign of him.”

  


“He was - “

  


“I know,” Han says. “We believe you. We’re just trying to find out why he still looks the same.”

  


“And why he’s still alive,” the deputy mumbles. When the other two stare at her, she just shrugs. “What? It’s been ten years - we’re the same age. We were in the same  _ first grade class,  _ for God’s sake. I’m just as glad as the rest of you that we found him, but it’s kinda strange.”

  


“It  _ is  _ strange,” Han concedes. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s alive and well, seeming unharmed and still fourteen years old. Not having an explanation just makes our jobs a bit harder, not impossible. We’ll figure this out - we just need some time.”

  


“But how long do you think the reporters are willing to hold off?” the deputy presses. “The whole lot of them are going to start waving their first amendment freedom if they don’t get answers, and soon.”

  


“We’ve got until Saturday, right?”

  


The deputy nods. “As long as they have a story for the Sunday post, they’ll be happy.” 

  


“Good, good,” Han looks around, taking in the flora, before turning his gaze to Ben. “Want to go to the hospital?”

  


...

  


Han lets him ride shotgun. It’s a strange view of the world. The only ever time he’s ridden in the front is in his mom’s Subaru, on the rare occasion that she has time to take him to school. His mom’s Subaru might be nicer, but there is still the childlike part of Ben's soul that wants to be like his dad when he grows up - a brave and just police chief. 

  


Ben gave up on that dream a long time ago. His parents aren't the kind of people he would ever want to emulate.

  


…

  


Brendol Hux is in the waiting room, nursing a cup of coffee. The news is on - some national station that has endless similarities with every single other national news outlet - but he doesn’t seem to be paying attention. He sets the paper cup down on a low side table and stands when Han clears his throat. He holds out his hand to shake.

  


“I’m glad to see you again, under happier circumstances.”

  


“Likewise. After everything to happen, I never thought that I would step foot in this town again. My wife…” he trails off once he spots Ben. “You really found him, eh?”

  


Ben blushes, pinches his thighs through his jacket pockets. 

  


His father looks back at him, smiling. “Yeah, he really did. We couldn’t have done this without him.”

  


Ben relocates to the hallway after that, with a cup of cocoa from the same nurse as the night before. The hospital is close to empty, and the yellow lights flicker. There is a plant - some small house variety and most likely fake. Still, it makes him uncomfortable and twitchy. 

  


He jumps a foot off of his chair when Brendol places a hand on his shoulder. 

  


“Ben, right? Can I sit beside you?”

  


The teenager nods.

  


“Your father told me Armitage hasn’t aged a day, looks just like the photos we gave him during the initial investigation. Ade and I don’t know how to feel about that. It’s nice, like we haven’t lost any of time, and yet - so much time has gone by. Ten years, and he’s missed all of that. 

  


“What if he doesn’t remember us?”

  


“He will.” Ben hopes, prays,  _ begs,  _ for Armitage Hux to remember his family, if only that. “He couldn’t forget you.”

  


Brendol just sighs. “I hope…” A pause, and then - “I want you to be there, when Armitage wakes up.”

  


“What - ?” Ben splutters, nearly falling out of his chair. “Shouldn’t it be you and Mrs. Hux?”

  


“She’s working today, couldn’t get time off. I… I can’t do this without her. The doctors said he should wake up from the drugs sometime this afternoon. He shouldn’t be alone for that. I was  wondering if you could stay, until he wakes up. Maybe talk to him some, just so he knows he isn’t forgotten. Can you do that?”

  


This town would never forget that boy.

  


“Of course.” 

  


Ben only just found him. Brendol Hux, Han Organa-Solo - they wouldn’t be able to tear him away now, no matter how hard they tried. Ben has always had an issue with latching onto things, but maybe this time, it won’t matter. Maybe this time, it’ll be for the best.

  


“Thank you, Ben. You’ve done more for my family than you’ll ever know.”

  


“Don’t worry about it.”

  


…

  


There are more plants, tucked along the windowsill of Armitage’s hospital room. They seem to move writhe, twist and move in the sunlight. It can’t be real, Ben rubs his eyes. He’s just seeing things. He’s tired, exhausted from late nights and stress. All of this movement, finding Armitage Hux, this endless cycle of living and dying and living and dying - it can really take it out of a fourteen year old boy. 

  


They’re in the children’s ward. Dinosaurs and princess tiaras cover the walls and sheets. The chairs are small, child-sized. It’s a sad image - children shouldn’t be hurt. Ben feels too big, too large and awkward, all extended limbs and apologetic movements. 

  


Brendol should be here, with Maratelle. They should be here with their son, not Ben, not some random kid that happened to find Armitage. He deserves better, not the son of the police chief that spent ten straight years kicking up dust. 

  


He swallows, chokes himself up a bit, and settles into his seat to begin the long wait.

  


…

  


The television is on, playing Judge Judy reruns when Armitage wakes up. Embarrassingly enough, Ben doesn’t notice for several minutes - too engrossed in a couple arguing over who gets the dog in the breakup. 

  


“Are you honestly  _ enjoying  _ this garbage?” 

  


Ben falls out of his too small chair, landing in a pitiful heap on the floor. His head jerks up to see Armitage watching him with some of the worst bedhead he’s ever seen.

  


“He’s awake,” he whispers, but to whom, he’s unsure. Half a second later, what he said sinks in. “Hey! Judge Judy is good!”

  


“Disgusting,” Armitage scoffs. He flops onto his back. “You should turn that off. It’s not good for you.” 

  


Ben just turns the volume up louder.

  


“That’s rude. You should do as I say. I’m the hospital patient here, after all.” He pauses, before asking, “do you know why I’m in the hospital?” 

  


“I found you in the forest, out by the millpond,” Ben replies, intently watching Judge Judy and not paying any mind to Armitage.

  


“Do you make a habit of finding people in the woods, or am I special?” Armitage jokes.

  


“You’re the only one.” Ben glances back at Armitage. “Does it make you feel good, to be special?” 

  


“My mother has told me that I’m  _ special  _ my entire life.” He spits out the word like he doesn’t find it quite true. “Hearing it from you doesn’t mean much, to be frank. What are you anyway, ten?”

  


“I’m fourteen, excuse you.”

  


“Really? That’s cute. According to my medical records here,” he points with his chin, “I’m twenty five. So, you want to explain what’s going on, Mr Special Fourteen Year Old?”

  


“You’re terrible,” Ben complains.

  


“That’s the nicest thing anyone close to my age has ever said to me.”

  


“Now I can’t be mean!”

  


Armitage smiles. “Funny how that works. As soon as you think it might hurt my feelings, you clam up and act like it’s some great and terrible evil. Is there a reason for why it’s okay, before you know that it hurts my feelings? Or, are you just naturally terrible?”

  


“I think you’re worse than me.”

  


“Then, explain. I might be nice, if you do that.”

  


“I changed my mind. You are most definitely worse than me.”

  


They still finish that episode of Judge Judy, and Armitage almost doesn’t complain the entire time.

  


…

  


“Have you heard?”

  


“Heard what?”

  


“The Hux’ are back in town!”

  


“Well, while I can’t say that I’m not surprised, I do wish that they had stayed out in Arkansis. I hate to say it, but the town has been nicer without them around.”

  


“I can’t say that I don’t agree. It’s a shame, what happened to their son. I can’t image the pain, but - well, there is no one they can blame but themselves. They’re just lucky he didn’t wash up dead.”

  


“Or worse!”

  


“Worse? What could be worse? Do you have something in mind?”

  


“You know I despise gossip, but I heard my kids talking the other day…”

  


…

  


A week passes, and the reporters finally get their story. Not a single local paper, magazine, or television station is safe from it. They all show the same picture - Armitage Hux in a purple wind breaker, smiling at the camera. It’s blurry, and clearly aged. Armitage’s face is stark white and smiling. It was taken two months before he disappeared, the news is always happy to say. 

  


“He hasn’t aged a day, since he was reported missing on March 27, ten years ago. No signs of foul play or injury have been discovered by hospital staff or the police.”

  


Ben watches the segment with Armitage. The first time it plays, Armitage never once looks away. Now, as it replays on the half hour, every half hour, he seems more and more fidgety. 

  


“Sheriff Solo explained everything to me, the other night,” Armitage finally says. It’s the first thing he’s said all day. “He said it would best for me to know, before I saw it all on tv.”

  


“How does it make you feel?” Ben asks. On the tv, the muted host is gesturing to a timeline graphic. Images of Leia Organa’s public address are shown.

  


“It’s - strange, and maybe scary? I can’t tell. Everything feels a bit washed out. The sheriff says it’s from being in a coma for ten years. It’s still hard to believe, though.”

  


Ben frowns. “But it’s the truth.”

  


Armitage sighs. “Yeah… that’s what they keep telling me.”

  


…

  


Armitage goes to school with Ben the next week. He trails behind Ben, keeping his head down and his mouth shut, no longer the proud and brusque boy from the hospital room. Other students stare at them in the hospital. A few whisper, laugh once they’re further down the hallway. 

  


“Don’t mind them,” he tells Armitage over his shoulder. “They’ll stop eventually -  “

  


They don’t stop, no - they only become louder, more daring in their mocks when Anakin sticks his leg out and trips Armitage. He catches himself easily, but by then, it’s too late. Anakin and Kenobi are smirking, Ben is glaring, the hallway is echoing loudly, and Armitage -

  


Armitage doesn’t care. 

  


“It’s good to see that people never really change,” he says as he shoulders through the crowds.

  


No one stops him, no one says a word until he’s turned the corner.

  


“Just who did you find?” Kenobi asks, barely more than a whisper. 

  


“What does it matter?” Anakin replies. “He found him, and not we have to deal with the weird forest kid.”

  


…

  


People don’t talk about Armitage Hux after that. Now that he’s back, alive and well, the legend seemingly died out in the space of a heartbeat. There’s nothing left to say - they all the know the legend, they’re all seen the yearly updates on the local news every March. And now, without the shreds of magical fanaticism holding it all together, what is there left to say?

  


Ben and Armitage sit under the bleachers during gym, watching the rest of the class through the cracks. It’s shadowy, down here, with thin beams of light illuminating the dust particles that float by.

  


Anakin is yelling at his team, and Kenobi at his. The class is playing capture the flag, sliding on the waxed wooden floors. Rainwater is leaking in, making everything slip. Shouts of captured students echo through the large room, bouncing off the walls. 

  


“What was it like?” Ben asks, never taking his eyes off of the game. It builds up a wall, a kind of separation between reality and the past where nothing bad can happen. It’s like sunshine, like a desert, like the deepest trench in the ocean where nothing grows. “Being unconscious for all of those years.”

  


Armitage doesn’t answer, not at first. Ben thinks he didn’t hear, or just doesn’t want to say. Neither would surprise him, in all honestly. They sit in silence for a few moments. Sound doesn’t travel well to beneath the bleachers.

  


“It was like drowning,” he finally says, quite, soft. “But there was no bottom, and there never was a surface. Just sinking, further and further into the dark.

  


“It felt like an eternity, but now, when I think about on it, it was more like a blink - one second it was early morning in the forest, and the next I was in the hospital with you.”

  


Ben hums, nods his head, before changing the subject. “Have you seen your parents yet?”

  


“No.” Armitage tilts his head back, stretches. “They’re coming down from Arkansis this afternoon, though.”

  


“Excited?”

  


“Yeah.” A grin breaks out on Armitage’s face. “It’s been so long. I feel like they’ll start crying for a few hours, and then show me baby pictures because that’ll totally be something I’m interested in.”

  


“But, they love you. Don’t you want to see them?”

  


“Of course! I’m just scared that they’ll try to blame themselves for all of this - God knows they’ve already felt guilty for ten years.”

  


“Then, tell them it’s not their fault.”

  


“I would, if only I knew how to.”

  


…

  


“You found me, right?” Armitage asks as they leave school.

  


Ben nods. “Why?”

  


“Show me where. Tomorrow afternoon?”

  


He’s running before Ben can respond. 

  


…

  


Somehow, Rey finds out, and whenever Rey knows something, it doesn’t take long for Finn and Poe to find out as well. The three middle schoolers tag along, but Ben doesn’t really mind, because Poe’s mom makes the best snacks. Finn’s could do better, but, that’s whatever. 

  


In the end, Rey can’t come - her parents have always been overprotective. His cousin blames him for going off and almost dying and then finding a not-dead-dead-body, but what can you do?

  


“This is a terrible idea,” Finn says, trudging behind the rest of the group. He’s holding the strap of Poe’s backpack, and his sweatshirt sleeves are pulled over his fists. “Ben is gonna almost die again.”

  


“Keep up, then, loser,” Armitage says before Ben can even open his mouth. He smirks, glancing over his shoulder at Finn’s blushing face. “You’re the one who wanted to come. Besides, I was already lost out here for ten years, so I doubt things could get much worse, wouldn’t you say?”

  


“Oh, yeah. I guess that’s true.”

  


The plants don’t grow in this part of the wood - it’s all ancient trees, dead long ago and now nothing more than firestarters filled with ants and termites. The earth is hard packed, black earth baked in the sun that filters through the canopy of spindly branches. They seem to reach out like skeletal fingers, catching on clothing and bags and tug tug  _ tugging.  _

  


The forest doesn’t grow here, where the sun shines.

  


Maybe, things would have been different, if they stayed out there - 

  


Where the sun touched their skin,

  


And kept the plants at bay.  

**Author's Note:**

> twitter - cactixix  
> tumblr - c10p; claude-lit; prettyboykylo


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